Routine Maintenance
by duskbutterfly
Summary: There weren't many things Nell ever admitted to wanting so when Eric discovered one he was prepared to move Hetty and Earth to make it happen. Neric.


**A/N:** _This is my first NCIS:LA fic so bear with me if I make any slip ups. I'm not sure if I want to/can add more to this story it's kinda nice ending there but let me know what you think. Oh and please do let me know if you find any errors (grammar and otherwise) it's a personal pet hate but I may have missed one or two. _

**Disclaimer:** No I don't own NCIS:LA, Nell and Eric or anything else. Nor am I profiting from this.

* * *

**Routine Maintenance**

_There weren't many things Nell ever admitted to wanting so when Eric discovered one he was prepared to move Hetty and Earth to make it happen._

* * *

Nell had started out smiling like a Cheshire Cat when Eric told her that, no she couldn't help, Hetty had a special project and for once, it was for his eyes only. She knew how hard it was in the beginning when she got swept off on a special project and he just had to keep doing what he always did. She was pretty sure that now, he was happy for her and maybe even a little bit proud but she could see that having his own project took away a little bit of that initial damage done to his ego.

But as the weeks rolled on and he devoted every spare moment to this secret project it began to really irk her. It was the lack of his surfboard on his car most mornings, the dulling of the fresh salty smell that seemed to have become part of his being, the cancelling of movie nights and his increasing tiredness that really made her angry. Hetty apparently hadn't made it a priority, because he still had to work on all the cases that came in and for some unknown reason even insisted on doing the scheduled maintenance in Ops, yet somehow it was so important that it took the place of the things she knew he loved doing. And it was taking her place.

That last thought almost stopped her mid stride and she waited for the denial to come, but it didn't. She was used to being – well, if she was honest, (which it seemed her subconscious was insisting on), she was used to being important. She may not be prepared to admit why, but even though he had plenty of friends outside of work he had always made time to see her. Always thinking of movies to watch, games to play, music to listen to and she'd gotten used to hanging out at his apartment. It had started out with the justification that he had a 60inch plasma (compared to her 40inch), every game and console ever invented and a seemingly endless supply of Oreos. But somewhere along the line it'd become normal. Sure they still occasionally got drinks (when the team were going), grabbed dinner (when all they really had the energy for was food), or sometimes it was her place, but that was mostly on the rare occasions she had something Eric didn't. They'd had a couple of gaming nights at her place since the project started – Eric had given this lame excuse about rewiring his place but she was pretty sure if he could do Ops maintenance in one week he could rewire a whole house within a few days let alone an apartment but she'd been tired and hadn't felt like pursuing that particular story.

Maybe he'd finally noticed how his next-door neighbour looked at him (like she wanted to eat him for breakfast) and was leaving the door open for something to happen there? Not that the lady of 3B deserved him, Nell thought vehemently. It wasn't like Miss Gossip was capable of understanding even the basics, let alone the finer points of, how Eric's mind worked. Nell doubted Miss Gossip would be able to distinguish Archimedes from Aristotle; probably thought Pythagoras was merely the guy who figured out triangles and Nell shuddered to think what she'd say if you asked her about Einstein. No, definitely unworthy of one of the most beautiful mind's she'd ever come across. All Miss Gossip was capable of was noticing was the way his hair curled at the top making any woman with a pulse want to run her fingers though it to see if it was as soft as it looked, she'd notice that despite the bizarreness of the pattern he filled out a shirt quite nicely, the way his glasses seemed to frame the intelligence which sparked in those green eyes…. Not that Nell was noticing any of those things, it was called knowing her Partner, just like Sam could catalogue everyone of Callen's habits and Deeks could name everyone of Kensi's favourite outfits – then again, Deeks wasn't such a good example, the guy worshiped the ground Kensi walked on and it wasn't like that with Eric… well she couldn't help but admire his mind, appreciate all the little things he did for her and the way they knew what each other was thinking – but really it wasn't the same. Not at all.

Unsatisfied with where that particular thought process was taking her, she decided she'd had enough of the beach. It had seemed like the perfect idea to come out to the beach after work. Thinking maybe she'd get the same calm from it Eric always talked about but all she had really achieved was sore feet and far from being calm she was apparently having issues keeping her mind on track. Somehow she'd missed the beautiful sunset and rather than enjoying the dusk she felt cold and alone.

She wondered vaguely, as she wiped the sand off her feet, where Nate was. It'd be nice to talk to him – or maybe not. He had an uncanny ability to tell when she'd been thinking about Eric and made a real palaver about it. Not that she did a lot of thinking about her partner and there was nothing unusual about missing – damn! Definitely not chatting to Nate tonight, even if she could find him, she had the feeling he'd have an awful lot of questions she didn't want to think about let alone answer. Just go home, Nell. Clearly what she needed was a bubble bath, a glass of wine and no more thinking.

/

Eric scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to wipe away the tiredness before reinspecting his handy work. His apartment was almost unrecognisable with everything moved to the very edges of the room, maximising what little floor space there was. He'd taken to eating meals leaning against the kitchen counter because getting to either the kitchen table, the kitchen chairs or even the sofa was nigh on impossible as they'd all been stacked, rather haphazardly, on top of one another. His 60-inch plasma TV that had one dominated a whole wall had been stripped of its outer-shell and key components had been detached ready for use. The west corner had become devoted to every gadget and tool he might need and even the kitchen was over run with all the papers he usually had on the desk that was currently sitting face down on the sofa.

In the centre of all this chaos was a beautiful mahogany dining table.

At first glance you'd say it looked just like any other high quality antique. But as you stepped closer you'd realise that actually, the table had something inset into the top and the panel leaning against the wall that you assumed was a leaf to extend the table was actually a cover which hid the glass screen in the middle. If you knelt down, as Eric was, you would see a mass of wires and circuit boards that were currently hidden by the 5cm wooden skirt that made the table look both elegant and sturdy.

He ran his eye down the detailed list he'd compiled of what materials he needed: bullet proof glass; heat sensors; microphones; speakers; an endless number of different cables, microchips, motherboards; and a number of small components which he had designed himself.

It reminded him of building his first computer. On one hand he knew exactly what he wanted and was 100% certain he would be able to achieve it, but on the other hand, he wished he'd already done it once before so this one would be perfect. And that little fact was what was making all of this take so incredibly long. It's not like he didn't already check things three times but there was this little voice, which wasn't usually there, saying he wasn't able to do it all by himself anymore. It had been so easy doing the maintenance of the Island in Ops for the past week, every single test he ran came back the way it was expected – but he had Nell in Ops. He knew if there was something he didn't think of, she already would have. If there was a tool he hadn't gotten out, she'd have remembered. And he just worked better when she was around. He really struggled to remember how he'd done it all by himself. He hadn't exactly forgotten why she was so impossible when he first met her, but he could admit freely now, a lot of that had been fear that he'd met his replacement; Eric, 2.0. After all she could keep pace with all the tech work he did but there was no way he had even the slimmest hope of competing with her intelligence workload.

Which brought him back to the task in hand. For once, he actually was going to dip his toes into the murky pool of her intelligence work and do something useful that didn't involve illegal hacking. Even then he usually only got the hacking gig when she simply didn't have enough hands to do it herself.

Looking at the warm sheen of the wood, he grinned. Once the top panel was replaced, there was no way anyone would have any idea this was anything other than a beautiful wooden table. The seem was rendered invisible by the mother of pearl design he had commissioned a friend to inlay and he'd developed a special pressure lock which did away with the need for a switch or leaver. Placing your hands at a 45 angle to two of the corners on the long edge at the exact span of Nell's arms and gently pushing forward resulted in the panel lifting enough that you could slip your fingers under it and remove it. The screen also moved depending on if the cover was on or not so that it was flush with the table without the cover but recessed to allow the cover to go back on. To close, you simply reversed the process; place the wooden cover back on top of the screen and lightly press down and the internal mechanics did the rest. He'd made the screen out of bulletproof glass the to prevent it being accidently scratched when replacing the cover and of course, to prevent his creation being damaged by a stray bullet. Not that he expected her house to become a conflict zone but in their line of work, well it's best to be prepared.

Even with the panel off, no one other than Nell (and, so he could test it, Eric) would realise it was anything other than a tabletop computer and gaming console. There were enough of the gimmicky coffee tables that acted like giant tablets for her to be able to explain it away. After all, it wasn't a secret how technologically advanced she was and if all else failed she was a first class analyst in the most secretive business ever conducted by humans. And it did really contain every arcade game Eric could get his hands on, plus the best of the modern games. Not to mention the ability to surf the web, email, read newspapers from around the world, have a virtual bookshelf…

But that wasn't the reason he was making it.

What Nell had admitted to, was wanting the ability to work on classified material from home. More specifically, to be able to run some of the intelligence network mapping programs she'd developed and test their limits without having to tie up valuable processing power in ops where she had to continually oust hardworking technicians from an entire area just to ensure no one got a look at them. She didn't need a fortress, she was happy using bogus data but the models themselves were well above almost everyone's pay-grade. What she needed, was an Island like the one in Ops. But it's not like you could explain away something as advanced and clearly non-commercial as the Island just showing up in your house. Let alone all the practical problems like keeping it cool, securing it to prevent hacking and not accidently paint a bullseye on her front door saying 'attack here'.

Which is when Eric had had his brain wave. It'd taken some wheedling with Hetty to pretend that what he was working on was her idea (Nell wouldn't ask that way, because if she asked, he knew he was pretty much powerless to do anything but tell the truth when she fixed those hazel eyes on him) and to let him draw up the schematics which would create a virtual network which would mimic Ops' connection to satellites and the most advanced information out there but not actually create it, bypassing all the usual vulnerabilities which prevented intelligence being allowed to leave the building. These schematics, he had argued, would put NCIS ahead of even the pentagon and could actually redefine how they created new Ops centres. So really he would be creating something the agency desperately needed. In the private sector it'd be worth millions and he'd hand over all of it (well almost all of it) to NCIS if he were allowed to make this happen for Nell.

The part that wasn't going on file would be the protection mechanisms he designed to protect Nell from the eyes of the Agency. He might love working for them, didn't mean he was blind. Which is where the idea for the new dining table had come from. No one would question the delivery of a mahogany dining table and chairs and Nell's dining room was an internal room, which he knew Nell had made completely secure as a modern 'safe room' when she'd bought the place. What made the scheme ingenious was that all the components could be hidden in the undercarriage of the table and with the false bottom he had planned there's no way, looking at it from the outside, even if you inspected every inch with a magnifying glass would you'd see anything other than a beautiful table. He'd also finally found an application for the closed space heat converters he'd designed years ago, which sucked-in the heat the machines produced and turned it into energy which could then be stored and used to run the device, allowing highly advanced machines to appear to draw off no more power than a normal household appliance and produce almost no perceivable heat signature. That combined with the type of long life battery so common now in handheld devices would mean there'd be no need for a visible power supply – after all, there aren't too many antique tables that required a power cord.

It felt like it had been closer to a year than three months in the making. Luckily he'd been able to disguise some of the work in doing the routine maintenance and upgrades in Ops. Many of the 'upgrades' and 'rewrites' he beta'd with Nell were actually completely new components for her Island. Turned out most of them were genuine improvements on the software he'd originally written for Ops but it was satisfying to know that Nell would be the one getting the full benefits out of them. He was thriving on the challenge but at the same time, he felt exhausted.

What was wearing Eric down wasn't the project, no he was buoyed by the knowledge that this time – unlike the football book disaster – he was going to give Nell exactly what she wanted, it was the fact he couldn't have Nell over until this was all done. He missed having her sitting on his couch as they watched classic movies, missed how even doing the dishes seemed to be fun when she was around. The apartment seemed to be emptier without the promise of her imminent return. He noticed that, somewhere along the line he'd stopped needing to clean up before she came round. His mother would probably die of shock if she knew, but he no longer left all his dishes staked up, all his clothes unwashed, all his possessions littering ever available surface until the very last moment. Somehow, between the order that was imposed by Hetty at work and the desire to impress Nell his apartment had actually become as outwardly tidy as he was mentally organised. It was the disparity between the order of his mind and the chaos of his physical environments that had driven his mother to distraction. That's not to say the place had become a display home – it certainly hadn't – but there were now baskets, racks and shelves where there had once been stacks, piles and mounds. He'd even managed to contain most of his shirts to his bedroom. That the occasional one still graced the sofa from time to time simply made him human.

It wasn't as though her not being able to come over meant he didn't get to see her outside of work. They'd grabbed a few quick drinks with the others after work and he'd been to her place a few times but it just wasn't the same as having her in his home. He'd always preferred having his own space and the solitude – it had broken up more relationships than he cared to think about, the question of his girlfriend wanting to move into his place or for him to leave his place and move in with them had always been the beginning of the end. But the more often he had Nell over, the less he liked it when he was there by himself. Not to say she was there all that often, she wasn't, but somehow the knowledge that she couldn't come changed things. As far as she knew, he was rewiring the apartment including running fibre optic cable through the walls and that it really wasn't fit for visitors. He knew she wasn't satisfied with that answer but hoped she had just assumed it all had to do with Hetty's project.

Eric was jerked out of his deep concentration just as he began calibrating the heat sensors to interpret touch and it took him a second to realise it had been a sharp knock on his door. Looking wistfully at the program waiting to analyse the accuracy of the touch sensors he headed for his door. It was probably going to be the lady in 3B who seemed to find every excuse under the sun for him to help her do the most basic things. For the most part he did and she was nice enough but while she clearly wanted more he couldn't help wishing her eyes were hazel not that vibrant blue, that her hair was shorter and reddish brown rather than blonde, that instead of being consumed by meaningless gossip out she was capable of gathering real Intel...

Seeing as there was no way he was letting whoever it was in, he didn't bother replacing the cover on the table or getting ready to explain about the leak in the ceiling which had forced him to move all his furniture. Knowing they'd already been waiting for a couple of minutes Eric didn't bother peaking out the spy hole and simply slid off the chain and swung the door open. He had figured out how to open it just wide enough to be polite but still making it very difficult for the person on the other side to see past him and into the apartment.

Eric froze as his eyes met those of his uninvited visitor. Mentally he swore. This was a problem. But even still, he couldn't help the hint of a smile that slowly stole across his lips. It wasn't any of his neighbours. It wasn't even one of the endless barrage of people wanting to do odd jobs to keep bread on their table. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what to say.

"Aren't you going to invite me in Eric?"

"Uhh…ummm… well the thing is…" he stammered, trying desperately to think what he could say which was true (they'd pick up a lie before he'd got two words out) but wasn't actually the reason they couldn't come in.

"Or you could even start with a proper greeting," the tone was light; teasing even, but there was steel in those hazel eyes.

"Nell." Her name came out sounding more like a sigh, as he realised that this was going be practically impossible.

"What are you doing here? Everything's ok, right – you're not hurt are you, or the team, nothing disastrous has happened has it? I'm sure I'd have heard my phone, did you call? –" Now that he'd started he could hardly get the words out fast enough, could he have missed something major? Could someone have sent her here?

"– ERIC! Stop. Everything's fine." Nell moved quickly, her delicate fingers resting lightly on his bare arm.

Without the ability to control it, his eyes slid down to where her fingers touched his skin. He noted there was something nice about the contrast of her paler skin against his tanned one before flicking his eyes back to her face, no doubt visibly stunned. As if only just realising what she had done she quickly snatched her hand back. With a sharp pang of regret he glanced back at his arm surprised it hadn't left a brand; he could still feel the warmth of her touch even after it disappeared. Setting aside wishful thinking he looked back up and waited for her to continue.

"I was thinking about you," here Eric's mind kicked back into gear, hope that just maybe she was missing the movie nights too, missing him, "and I was worried that Hetty was working you too hard." Well that killed that fantasy.

Heaving a mental sigh that she was just looking out for him. He used the excuse of adjusting his glasses to quiet his treacherous mind before plastering a smile back on his face.

"Really I'm fine, Nell. Thanks for coming but I guess I'm just a bit distracted with trying to refit my apartment as well as work. It's taking way longer than you'd reckon but I guess I just don't know as much about building as I do about computers. No handy workmen appear the way they do in ops any time we need to open up one of the giant floor panels – did you know how difficult it is to run industrial cables through apartment walls without anyone noticing anything? I'm damn lucky I own the entire complex or it'd be the devil of a business." He paused to draw breath perfectly ready to continue on his lecture about the challenges of maintenance when Nell rushed into the gap.

"And we have to discuss this outside you're apartment why?" She was after all both suspicious and cold. Not to mention a little bit nervous that he would have changed one of the things she loved about the apartment.

"Well…uhh. It's a building site in there –"

"And I'm afraid of getting dirty?"

There was a momentary pause. Eric's smile slipped and his eyes widened before Nell rushed in to correct her mistake.

"Not that I'm suggesting… I just meant that I'm pretty handy with power tools…" she winced, this was going from bad to worse. Unable to think how to avoid finishing that sentence with the image that had popped unheeded into her mind of what getting dirty with Eric would look like, she quickly changed tack. Trying to subtly step so that she could actually see into the apartment. "Can't be worse than a war zone in there."

This seemed to finally shake off the last of the stupor that had come over him when she had first gotten her self tied up with unintended innuendos.

"Why don't we go down to the café on the corner, I'm ready for a break and you really don't need to come in, it is a bit of a disaster in there."

"You want to go out wearing that?" Nell asked looking pointedly at his outfit for the first time.

Raising his eyebrows Eric looked down and felt blood rush to his face and neck. He'd forgotten he'd changed into pyjama pants and an old college t-shirt after his brief dip in the surf and finally his eyes came to rest on his bare feet. Despite being well known for his eclectic collection of clothes at work, they were perfectly normal for the surfer his neighbours knew him to be. Pyjamas pants weren't 'normal' café wear in any city he'd ever come across, not to mention them not containing pockets for the essentials like wallet and keys that were sitting on his kitchen counter. Which posed a dilemma. How to leave Nell outside his apartment while he changed and grabbed said essentials without just shutting the door in her face and/or making a scene.

Planting her hands on her hips Nell frowned.

"What's really going on in that apartment Eric? I know you aren't doing rewiring because: instead of plaster dust you seem to have fine wood shavings attached your clothing; the smear on your cheek looks more like grease than paint and there's the faint smell of solder where there should be that funny smell of new insulation."

Eric opened his mouth but, unsure how on earth he was going to dig himself out of this one and shaken by her thorough analysis of what he was doing based on the trace left on his clothing, he was forced to merely shut it again. Prompting her to continue on her verbal tirade.

"If you don't want me to come over any more you could have just said so. I would have understood if you're going after what's-her-name from down the hall."

That propelled Eric into speech. He didn't really understand why she was bringing up the woman from 3B but he was floored that she could possibly think this was about not wanting to spend time with her.

"Of course I don't want you to stop coming over… well it's – the moment's a bit – but it's not you. Never you. You make it feel like home – I mean, uh, you should think of it like you're home – no um, just that you're very welcome – not that you can't think of it as like a second place – and it does feel like my home because I live here – but you see – right now –" Eric wished desperately for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. There was no good way out of the mess he was creating and Nell had that intense look on her face when he'd accidently let slip about her making it feel like home. It felt like he was all the way back at Atama Security with Nell leaning over him – leaving him wanting to say something amazing, to do what his body was crying out for and instead being completely unable to say or do anything at all.

The last thing he'd expected was to find Nell's two hands in the centre of his chest as she advanced on him, forcing him to step backwards into the apartment. He was so transfixed by the sensations which were flooding his system where her hands were pressed into his t-shirt either side of his heart that he didn't even realise they were inside until he heard the door click and Nell's gasp. Looking up from her hands he realised she was looking not at him, but past him at the chaos which was his apartment.

There was no hiding it now. Looking over his shoulder (he couldn't turn as Nell's hands had clenched into the fabric of his shirt) he saw the devastation as though for the first time. The upended furniture, the TV that was in too many pieces to count, the stack of motherboards and wires that seemed to litter what little space was free…

A sharp tug on his shirt brought his head whipping back around, almost colliding with Nell's, which seemed suddenly a lot closer than a few moments ago.

"What the hell's going on Eric?" Nell ground out, not quite sure why she was suddenly furious but unable to shake it.

"I can explain! But, uhm, as much as I like you grabbing onto my shirt, I'm going to need you to let me go so I can show you. " Nell, who seemed not to have noticed she had a death grip on his shirt rapidly let go. She had, however forgotten why her hands had been there in the first place, to push Eric back into the room and not having thought to also step back, gravity had her falling straight back into his arms.

Both momentarily stunned, Nell stayed with her cheek pressed against Eric's chest, enclosed in the safety of his arms for what seemed like an eon. She could feel his heart beat in time with hers and while part of her knew she needed to be pushing out and away and trying to recover the situation, she didn't want to move a muscle. Most men made her feel small, dwarfed by their breadth has much as their height but Eric seemed to wrap around her like a glove, sheltering not dominating.

Eric had considered an incredible number of possibilities in the milliseconds between her head coming to rest against his chest and his arms wrapping around her. His current conclusion was that he must be dreaming, nowhere else did an argument turn into an embrace. But whatever it was, he definitely didn't want to wake up any time soon. It wasn't as though it was the first time he'd imagined having Nell in his arms either, but nothing had prepared him for how amazing it felt.

He more felt than heard her murmuring his name. Then she moved. Gently pushing against his chest as though to free herself.

Eric barely contained a groan as he came crashing back to reality and reluctantly loosened his arms from around her and, gently bracing his hands on her upper arms to support her, stepped back. Seeing she was steady on her feet he let his hands drop. Sometimes he hated being a gentleman.

Trying to look everywhere except Eric, and to escape the treacherous voice in her head which said, to hell with whatever reason she came here for, all she had to do was move one step closer and she'd be back, cocooned in Eric's arms. She focused on the only item in the entire place which wasn't up the wrong way or shoved into a corner – the dining table. It was of a beautiful rose wood, Mahogany if she wasn't mistaken, which was completely incongruous with the thoroughly functional, comfortable décor that Eric favoured. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to fill a mansion with antiques and not put a dent in his bank account, he just didn't seem to see the point. Nell on the other hand, loved antiques. Taking a step towards it she noticed first, the collection of electronic components which were arranged around the base of it and then, looking closer, the screen inset into the table's surface.

To her amazement it was on. The closer she got, the more incredible it seemed. She recognised one of the analysis programs they ran in Ops but frowned over the slight variation in the code. It seemed to be measuring heat sensation. Having continued to drift forward without being aware of it Nell now reached out and touched the screen.

**[ Welcome Nell ]** Popped up on the screen.

Lurching backwards in surprise Nell collided with Eric who'd been coming to stand beside her.

Spinning around, she faced him ready to demand the answers to the questions that were multiplying inside her head.

"It was going to be a surprise." Eric's tone was flat, almost as if he was preparing himself for a tirade of abuse.

"A surprise?" Nell blinked trying to stop the spinning in her mind.

"Yeah. You said you wanted – well, then I got Hetty to agree that I could – and, it was all going to be – well it's almost your birthday but now –" Eric trailed off, rather helplessly.

Not that, as far a Nell could tell, he'd been making any sense whatsoever but the main thing that struck her was he looked defeated. Usually she could follow even his most broken sentences but this time, rather than saying too much she felt like she was forcibly dragging each word out of him.

Despite knowing it was a bad idea, she reached out and touched his arm, forcing him to look at her. With her fingers wrapped around his wrist she could feel his pulse pick up at her touch. It seemed to stop her mind from whirling, recapturing that moment of calm inside his arms.

"Eric, whatever it is, it's ok. We're going to figure this out," and she smiled.

Between the warmth of her hand and the smile Eric seemed to slowly begin to relax. Maybe this was going to be ok. Maybe he hadn't just ruined everything. Maybe, she would still like it, even though it wasn't finished. Just maybe.

With a gentle tug on his wrist toward the table she said, "You said, before you were going to show me something. How about we start over."

He'd imagined how he'd present it to Nell countless times but it had always been 100% finished and they weren't meant to have almost had a fight about it but taking a deep breath he figured at this point, he'd settle for just having it all out in the open without all the stress of having to lie to his best friend.

Drawing strength from her fingers around his wrist he moved so that they were standing side by side looking down at the table. Eric tried to pretend it was Callen or the team he was explaining this to. Just the facts and as succinct as possible.

"It's a version of the Ops Island. You said months ago you wished you had some way of running the intelligence models without having to clear the building and I know how much you love the Island so I thought…well, I thought maybe if I made you one which was just for you and figured out how to make it safe enough that you wouldn't have to worry about being invaded by the FBI or a terror cell but still keep all the functionality of being in Ops then you would have more free time. Obviously it couldn't look like the one in Ops so I had to figure out how to disguise it as something so completely ordinary that you could have it at home. The section of wood over there slips seamlessly on top of the screen, you'd never know there was anything but wood in there. Anyone who tries to use it except you will only see the home entertainment system I built into it. You can even read the paper the way you normally would at breakfast because I figured out how to make the screen recognise cups and plates and discount them so it actually works as a table as well and I built a full casino suite in too, you know in case someone found out and you could make a show of being able to have a group of people over – " Eric was so swept up in trying to explain how good it could be he didn't realise Nell had moved until two of her fingers were on his lips and her other hand was pulling him round to face her.

"You built this for me?" She sounded stunned. He was relieved to see she looked pleased but all logical thought seemed to have slowed and every cell in his body seemed focused on the two fingers she'd left pressed against his lips. He fought the temptation to moisten his suddenly dry lips, not wanting to do anything that might make her move them. He nodded.

"There wasn't ever a project from Hetty was there?" She frowned, "but how did you convince her to go along with this, surely it's a liability to have something this advanced out of Ops?"

Loath as he was to move his lips, he knew was going to have to go back to the beginning. Sighing internally he tried to gather the pieces of his logical mind, which seemed to scatter whenever Nell got this close.

"I cut a deal with Hetty," for one glorious moment his lips were moving against her fingertips, sending spirals of heat throughout his system, then she moved them away just as he knew she would. But not before he saw her pupils dilate, changing the hazel he loved into a rich dark chocolate. "I came up with a new way to isolate and secure devices and in exchange for the schematics which would take all of NCIS's communication devices beyond the reach of even the pentagon (something the Navy pays millions of dollars in funding every year for) and an implementation plan for how secure communication bases could be set up in environments previously thought to be too dangerous – I was allowed to modify my original design of the Ops Island (which the Navy now own) and to make this one for you."

He watched her piece it all together, the challenge of not only the top secret material the device was designed to process but also the fact that while he might be the creator of the original technology the patents which governed any and all work done on the project or relating projects was technically owned by the Navy. It also dawned on her the enormity of what he had undertaken. When she'd come up with the dream her mind was weighed down with the certain knowledge that there was no system secure enough or stealthy enough to enable classified information and programs to run outside the fortress which was the Mission. And it wasn't as though they hadn't had people trying to hack them before.

Her mind spun at the list of challenges she could think of off the top of her head, and no doubt if you cubed the number you'd have a starting point for what the system needed to do. No wonder it had taken every second of his time. She could hardly contain all the questions she wanted to ask about how he'd done it? How close it was to being finished? Had he really bartered the agency with promises of reforming the whole system of personal electronics just to make her life a little bit easier?

Which brought her back to the beginning. She couldn't believe he'd staked it all, taken on more work than any sane individual would do in a lifetime, for her. She wanted to cry. As amazing as her family were, there was no one who'd ever done anything like this for her. Biting her lip she looked up into his worried face, trying very hard not to let her usually tightly reined emotions come pouring out.

"Oh god, Nell. Don't cry. You don't have to have it, I just thought – " His hand reached out to cup the side of her face, apprehension giving way to real fear.

Unable to bear the self doubt which clouded Eric's face but at a loss for the words necessary to explain what it meant to her to be given something as incredible and totally unique as a personal Island, she did the only thing she could think of which might assuage all those doubts. She reached out, pulling him towards her. One of her hands palmed the back of his head dragging it down as she pushed up onto her toes crushing her lips into his.

She'd often wondered what it would feel like to experience nuclear fusion within her body - to have one of the atoms that she was made of split in two. In that moment when Eric changed from frozen in shock to an active participant, she knew. The kiss, which had started out as being about gratitude and an inability to disassemble her feelings, had quite literally rocked her world. With his arms around her and his mouth moving against hers, she knew that no matter what happened next nothing was ever going to be the same.

* * *

**I'd love to know what you think so please review but, regardless thank-you for reading!**


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